Dark Legacy Zero: The Second Death
by Deeth Irteen
Summary: Time is not a strict line. Destiny is not set in stone. There is always a chance that the fallen will rise again, and past villains can live on in another life. (This is a fanfiction of a fanfiction, written with permission straight from the creator of Dark Legacy.)
1. Chapter 1: Destiny

Chapter One: Destiny

By Deeth Irteen

_Disclaimer: __I, Deeth Irteen, do __**not**__ own any of the characters in the Spyro franchise, nor do I own the characters in Dark Legacy. This is written with permission from Dardarax himself. One of my own chracters is featured in this chapter. Anything that happens in this story has no effect on Dark Legacy, unless stated otherwise by Dardarax. That said, enjoy._

How long had Ramolous been engulfed in this abyss? How much time passed as that axe swung down and ended his life? Was only seconds? Days? Minutes? _Years?_ He couldn't keep track of any of it. He lay in this darkness, eyes refusing to budge as the memories recycled over and over in his mind...

Some time ago, Ramolous was the prince of the land of Grasbonda, and son of the great King Kaiser. Kaiser was about to enter a treaty with the purple dragon Spyro and the Guardians of Warfang. Ramolous feared that the purple drake would bring about great doom and destruction. So, acting on the advice of his ally, the dragon-feline hybrid Jaxar, the prince hatched a coup to wage war against Warfang, with intent of slaying Spyro and his spawn and ending the purple dragons once and for all. But it was not to come to pass; Ramolous' plans were undone, and he was sentenced to treason. Right before he was to be beheaded, a strange vision came to him.

The twin moons opened and split into four great eyes in the sky, and Ramolous' mind was plagued with the images of the dragon realms burned to ashes. The prince could only watch as the four-eyed being toyed with him.

"Who are you?" He asked, unable to move from his spot on the dais. "Are... are you the one showing me this?! Why!?"

"Why? Because I felt that you should get to see the fruits of your labor before going to meet the ancestors."

"What... what do you mean?"

"All of this, my boy. **All** of this will happen because of **your **actions."

"... Me?" Ramolous asked, confused. "I... I don't..."

"Of course you don't. That's **painfully **obvious."

Ramolous couldn't understand this. "How is this my fault!? I was trying to **stop** something like this from happening!"

"Fate has a very cruel sense of humor." The creature chuckled maliciously.

"Why are you showing me this?!" Ramolous demanded. "I... I can't do anything about it now! I'm literally waiting for the axe to fall! Why couldn't you show me sooner?! Why now?!"

"Din't I already tell you why I'm showing you this?" The voice laughed.

"But..."

"I think it's time for me to be off. I have kept you waiting too long now, haven't I?"

After that, the voice vanished, and the vision ended. Before Ramolous could say a single word, the axe swung down. For a brief few seconds, the prince saw the world tumbling around as he head fell to the ground. His ears were met with a great chorus of woops and cheers as he died. And then, everything went black...

And now, Ramolous found himself floating in this abyss. Time and space had no meaning anymore. He never seemed to reach anyplace, nor did he ever encounter another soul. Not even the fabled Ancestors gave him company. Ramolous was completely alone. All he had to keep himself sane was reflecting on the horrible images of his homeland destroyed...

And then, quite suddenly, Ramolous found himself laying on a cold, tile floor. A shiver crept up his spine, and his black mane-hairs stood on end. The feran opened his eyes and shifted to sit on his haunches. He was in a blank, dimly-lit hallway. He could see his breath before his muzzle as he inhaled and exhaled. Looking north and south, the hallways seemed to extend onwards for eternity. The ceiling was just high enough to allow Ramolous to stand upright. Both walls were lined with countless iron doors, with silver locks preventing entry.

_What is this place?_ Ramolous wondered. _Is this the afterlife? Am I dead?_

As the feran was reflecting on the possiblity, he heard what he guessed to be slurping sounds coming from behind. Ramolous turned around, looking about for anyone else in the hallway. Some ten feet away, he spotted that one of the doors was unlocked and wide open. Another slurping noise came from beyond the door, accompanied by wood plopping on wood. Curious, Ramolous walked towards the door, peeking inside.

Ramolous saw a lavishly decorated sitting room. The floor was covered in white tiles and a great, red carpet. Bookshelves and artistic decorations were strewn along the side wall. A bar with all sorts of wines and fine beverages were on the other side wall. In the center, a purple dragon sat at a stone table, arranging chess pieces on a board. The dragon was about as large as Ramolous, and had a marvelous, golden mane. A fine, silk cape was draped over the dragon's back. Black stockings were worn on his four legs. He had broad, ram-like horns, and a third horn that pointe backwards upon his head. The dragon drank from a bowl, creating the slurping sounds.

The purple drake looked up fromt he chessboard at Ramolous. "Hello there."

The feran eyed the stranger with caution He scratched at the ground with his foretalons, unsure what to make of the purple stranger. Ramolous had hated purple dragons for years, ever since the evil drake Malefor brutally murdered his mother before his very eyes.;

The stranger rolled his eyes. "Surely you're not going to just stand at the doorway for all eternity? Come in, come! Have a drink! Join me in a little game of chess!"

The feran eyed the bar for a short time. He hadn't realized how thirsty this ordeal had left. He licked at his parched lips. But then he eyed the purple dragon with vehemence.

"Fine, I'll have a drink." He snapped, walking into the room. "But you better not try any tricks, Purple. Or else..."

"Or else what? You'll kill me?" The dragon laughed. "Then you'd be all alone. With no one to talk to. **Forever**."

"And how do I know there aren't others here?" Ramolous demanded.

"You're welcome to walk right out the door and look." The drake nodded. "The hallway goes on for miles, both ways. I was lucky enough to find a room I could open."

The feran thought on this for a moment. _I can stomach the purple eyesore if it means getting a drink._

Ramolous poured himself a bowl full of brandy and sat down at the table. The dragon had just finished setting up the chessboard. He was black, while Ramolous was white. The feran moved a pawn forwards. The dragon moved his own pawn, and the game commenced.

"You know," The stranger began, "You're a very intelligent man, Ramolous."

"How do you know my name?" The prince sneered.

"I like to do a bit of light reading every now and then." The stranger chuckled. "As I was saying, your skill at scheming and plotting is quite commendable. You could have succeeded had your plan not been hijacked by those interlopers."

"... Thank you for the compliment." Ramolous said suspiciously. "But I was only doing it to save the dragon realms. I would have surrendered myself for my actions afterwards."

"Ah, the honorable thing." The purple drake chuckled. "It's just a shame that nobody in your homeland saw things your way. They labelled you a tyrant and a monster, didn't they?"

Ramolous glared at the stranger, talons digging into the table.

"I like you, Ramolous." He went on. "You're a man who takes charge of his own destiny, just like me. Plus, we have so much in common. You see, I also lost my dear mother at a young age, and I had a coward of a father who didn't see danger hiding under his muzzle. I even have similar views on good and evil as you. For instance..."

The stranger lifted his king and placed it over Ramolous' king, knocking it off the table. Ramolous snarled, standing up.

"You cheater!" He snarled. "You can't make that move!"

"Based on what rules?" The stranger asked. "You and I are the only ones here. Who is to tell me that I cannot send my king to defeat yours?"

"Well, if there are no rules..." Ramolous took the board and tossed it away, sending the pieces flying everywhere. "Then there is no game!"

The purple dragon laughed heartilly. "Exactly, Ramolous."

"What...?" The feran sneered.

"The objective of chess is to defeat the king, yes?" The stranger went on. "There are no real rules; only the capture of the king. There is no game, because war is not a game. The enemy won't play by your rules; they only seek to cut you down. And it is the same with destiny."

"... What are you talking about, Purple?" Ramolous demanded, sitting back down.

"Time is not a single line; it is a line that's endlessly splitting off into segments, and those segments have segments of their own. What happens in one line, goes differently in another line. So who's to say that any one line is the definite one?"

"What does it have to do with-?"

"What is your destiny, Ramolous?" The stranger asked.

"My destiny is..." Ramolous' eyes went wide. He looked down at his forepaws, the memory of his beheading clear as day. "... It WAS to die a traitor..."

"Says who?" The stranger questioned. "Did you decide that was to be your destiny?"

"NO!" Ramolous exclaimed. "I was supposed to save the dragon realms from destruction! I was supposed to be a hero!"

"And yet your plans were hijacked, and your hopes were smashed." The purple drake stated. "Tell me, are you going to simply lay down and give up?"

"What am I to do?" Ramolous demanded. "I failed. Now I'm stuck here, whever _here_ is..."

"There have been many names for it." The stranger said, pouring himself more brandy. "The afterlife, the Underworld, Purgatory, the beyond, the space between spaces... They're all names, really. I like to think of it as the spot between two segments in time."

"What do you mean?"

"There are many possible futures for events that already transpired." The stranget took a swig. "And there are ways of travelling between segments, going forwards and backwards. You may be dead, but you still _exist._ And that means you can travel to a place in space and time where you can be more... successful in your endeavors."

"How?" Ramolous asked.

The purple dragon stood up. He pointed towards the wall to the side. At first, nothing happened. But suddenly, the room shook. The glass bottles fell from the bar. Books fell apart, their pages scattering. Ramolous held onto the table to keep his balance. Some kind of great, white _tear_ appeared in the air. Light of all colors shined through as the tear grew wider. A moment later, a great, white light overtook the back wall.

"Come with me, and I can help you make your mark on history in ways you never imagined before." The stranger grinned. "Or... you can stay here and explore the hallway til the end of time. It's YOUR decision, Ramolous."

The feran looked back at the doorway, then back at the great white light. He sneered, seeing that he had no real choice.

"Fine." He said, walking towards the light. "I'll go with you, Purple."

"Please, call me Bergan." The stranger grinned.

The two walked into the light together...

**Characters created by Dardarax:**

Ramolous

**Characters created by Deeth Irteen:**

Bergan

Greetings, friends and loved ones. This is a new story that I threw together to work on my writing chops, as well as create a fanfiction of a fanfition. Just for fun, you see. It was also sort-of supposed to be a birthday gift for Dardarax, but it got MASSIVELY delayed due to writer's block. But now that I've started, here's hoping everyone enjoys it.

Signed, Deeth Irteen


	2. Chapter 2: Life

Chapter Two: Life

By Deeth Irteen

_Disclaimer: __I, Deeth Irteen, do __**not**__ own any of the characters in the Spyro franchise, nor do I own the characters in Dark Legacy. This is written with permission from Dardarax himself. One of my own chracters is featured in this chapter. Anything that happens in this story has no effect on Dark Legacy, unless stated otherwise by Dardarax. If you complain about things contradicting DL canon anyway, you're an idiot. That said, enjoy._

It was the middle of the morning in the city of Warfang. The citizens of the city were abuzz with the latest gossip from the aftermath of the Feran Conflict. With the battles now over and the orchestrators put to death, King Kaiser, ruler of the Feran jungles of Grasbonda, has been given the title of the Sixth King on the council of kings who rule over the Dragon Realms. Rumors floated around that an albino dragon had been involved in the battle, and that one of the orchestrators managed to flee from custody.

Gossip and rumors. Those were deadly things nowadays.

A red fire dragon, roughly eighteen years of age, stood by the windowsil of his bedroom. He looked down at the various pieces of copper and other random knick-knacks he had scattered on the dresser beneath the dresser. The young dragon looked down at a single portrait of three fire dragons; himself, and two adults. He took a deep breath, struggling to keep from crying.

"Mom... Dad..." He said sadly.

The dragon's name was Ashe. He was larger than most, but not the most muscular. He was fairly attractive by dragon standards. At least he would be, if his left eye wasn't white and glossy. To compensate, Ashe wore a black cloth over part of his face, in an attempt to make his deformity look cooler. Four small, grey horns grew atop his head, around a scratched and torn headcrest, which ran down to his neck. A series of dulled spikes replaced the headcrest between his horns, and a broken hook sprouted on his tail.

Two years ago, Ashe's parents were housed at a small settlement, thirty miles east of Warfang. They used to live as blacksmiths in a city to the south, and were planning on travelling to Warfang for a new life. But that dream was cut short when an Ape war party ambushed the settlement, burning it to the ground. Ashe managed to escape with a blind eye and broken tailblade, but his paren'ts weren't so lucky. Ashe lost his family, his belongings, and the little money his parents had. With nowhere to go and nothing his name except for a single charred portrait, Ashe was sent to the Dragon's Glade Hatchery, Eggsitting and Orphanage, in Warfang.

Ashe was snapped back to reality when another fire dragon shoved him away from the window.

"Move it, One-eye." Nazer hissed. "I need to get ready for work."

"You could've just ASKED, shithead." Ashe sneered.

"Fine: Would you PLEASE piss off so I can get ready for work?!" Nazer said sarcastically. "You have to get ready too, by the way."

"I get it, I get it..."

When a dragonling has passed the age of six, they have to get a job in order to pay for room at the hatchery. Due to "storage" issues, orphans had to share rooms, unless they could afford the extra rent to live alone. Ashe wasn't one of those lucky dragons.

Nazer pulled out a washcloth from his side of the dresser and made for the door. He stopped when he saw that Ashe had barely moved from his spot by the windowsill.

"Oh, would you get up off your ass already?!" Nazer growled. "I can't afford to be late for work AGAIN because of you!"

"Give me a break, already!" Ashe said angrilly. "I'm just about to get ready!"

"Honestly, you make Lyrith look like a model citizen."

Ashe froze. "Don't you mention that drake again."

"Oh, you mean Lyrith?" Nazer chided. "I'm ever so sorry. I didn't realize that _Lyrith_ still sends you into nightmares at night."

Nazer turned and left the room. "Just get ready for work, you twat."

Ashe was left alone, thinking about the dragon named Lyrith.

Lyrith was an albino; a dragon who couldn't use magic. He had apparently lived in Dragon's Glade for all his life. Time and again, other orphans mocked and bullied him. The local schoolteachers refused to let him attend classes. Even The Mother, the orphanage's caretaker and founder, hated the albino. And yet, despite all this, Lyrith seemed to have **everything.** He had a well-paying job at the Warfang Smelters. He made enough money to post most other orphans to shame. While other orphans would be emotionally crippled by the loss of their families, Lyrith was stoic and calm. To Lyrith, it was better to never have family at all, than to lose it.

When Ashe came the hatchery, he quickly learned about how the other orphans pushed Lyrith around. Ashe tried to gain their trust by boasting about how he defeated six apes at once during the attack on his family, with a mighty family warhammer. There was _some _truth to this; Ashe's father trained himi to use a hammer during the little time he spent as an apprentice blacksmith, and he used said hammer to bash in an ape's skull.

But alas, it did little to work, so Ashe switched to trying to humiliate the albino. That worked even _less_. And to add insult to injury, Lyrith would mock and humiliate Ashe right back, in full view of **everybody.** Even Lyrith's other bullies joined in mocking Ashe. Ever since that day, Ashe and his only friends, Bould and Sickle, tried their damndest to get back at Lyrith. But it always ended in failure.

Roughly a year ago, the Guardian of Flame, Inferna, arrived at the orphanage right out of the blue. She happened to bear witness to the final time Ashe and his friends attack Lyrith, and their final defeat. They tried to blame him for the attack, but it didn't stick. The final blow to Ashe's ego was when Inferna adopted Lyrith, taking him away from that awful place to live the life of luxury in the Dragon Temple.

"Fuck you, albino freak!" In a rage, Ashe punched the nearby wall. He then immediately grabbed his paw, squaling in pain.

~~...~~

Bould sat in the children's section of the children's section of the local library. He stood at a table, reading over a big, thick-rimmed book with large text.

"How... H-How... Now..." He read slowly. "How... How Now..."

Bould was a brown-hided earth dragon. He was muscular in some parts of his body, and fat in others. He was also very BIG; despite being only sixteen, he stood almost as tall as an adult dragon. As such, he had to eat like an ox to stay sustained daily. Two small, yellow horns grew upon his broad chin, and two more club-shaped horns crowned his head. A series of spikes ran from his head to his tail, which ended in another club. Drool leaked out the left side of his face, through no fault of his own.

Bould used to be the son of cattle farmers to the east. Living a farmer's life, Bould had no need for proper education or battle training. A little over two years ago, a plague broke out, killing his mother. Bould's father, unable to keep his son fed AND keep the business going at the same time, had no choice but to bring him to the orphanage in Warfang. His father left him with a promise that he'd return someday to reclaim him. But two years later, that day has still yet to come.

Bould was now trying to catch up on the education he missed in his childhood, starting with that thick book.

"Hey, Boulderbrain." A green earth dragon snickered from across the way.

"Huh?" Bould grunted, looking up. "What?"

The green dragon approached Bould, joined by another one. They chuckled as they walked around the table. They were Zared and Jared, a pair of twins. They were easilly shorter than Bould by about two heads.

"So, you're trying to READ today, are you?" Zared, the taller one, asked. "I didn't even know you knew what 'reading' is."

"I **do** know." Bould stammered. "It's the thing where you look at books and scribbles make sounds..."

The two green dragons laughed harder. The shorter one, Jared, snatched the book out of Bould's paws.

"Hey, give that back!" Bould stammered.

"How Now, Brown Cow...?" Jared read, confused. He turned towards Bould and laughed harder. "You've got to be kidding me. This is hatchling stuff. Are you a hatchling, Boulder?"

"No, I'm not..." Bould said indignantly. "And Bould's name is Bould."

"By ancestors, that name is simply _boulderdash_." Zared laughed. "Your parents must have been as stupid as you are!"

"Stupidity runs in the family!" Jared mocked. "At least it would, **if he had one**."

Bould frowned sadly as the other dragons mocked him. "But... you guys is orphans too..."

"Not anymore." Jared said, grinning. "We were adopted just last night. We only wanted to come and say 'farewell, fuckface'!"

"It seems that everybody's getting adopted, except YOU and your loser friends!" Zared added. "By the ancestors, even the ALBINO was adopted instead of you!"

Jared tossed the book at Bould's face. The brown dragon collapsed in a heap, whimpering. Zared and Jared walked away, laughing. "Smell you later, Boulderbreath!"

Bould just sat there, sniffling and thinking back.

Due to his lack of basic education, Bould wasn't allowed into any schools geared towards his age. In fact, most refused to even let him try to catch up. The only other dragon who wasn't allowed into schools was Lyrith the albino. Bould had never thought much of the white dragon when he first met him, but when Ashe and Sickle wanted to get in his way, Bould followed along in their plans. Ashe and Sickle were the only orphans who were nice to him, so he did whatever they said. But part of Bould didn't like having to insult or try to hurt Lyrith, so he's sometimes secretly leave a little note that said "SORRY: BY BOULD" on the white's door. But Bould never learned to write, so it always looked like chicken-scratch. Worse yet, he had no spare paper, so he had to write it on Lyrith's wall.

When Lyrith was adopted by Inferna, word soon spread around that a Guardian had chosen to adopt an orphan. Over the next few months, the Dragon's Glade orphanage received far more attention than it ever had. But Bould, due to his ugliness, was always passed over.

"It's not fair..." Bould said sadly. "Why nobody like Bould?"

~~...~~

Sickle was knocked to the ground in the middle of an alleyway. A big, silvery wind dragoness stood over him, grinning. She spilled the contents of a coin pouch into her open paw.

"Thanks for the 'hot date', Sickle." She cackled, counting the coins.

"...I thought you said you'd give me a real fun time." Sickle pouted.

"I was going to, but apparently you killed me for not putting out last time." The dragoness snickered. "So, I'll just be taking the usual payment and be on my way..."

"That was just a rumor! I never said that!" Sickle protested, moving to get up. The dragoness knocked hiim down again.

"That's too bad..." The dragoness stood over Sickle, pressing herself to his back to pin him down. "... It made you seem like such a big, mysterious dude."

"R-Really?" Sickle asked hopefully.

"Nope." The dragoness smacked him between the legs with her tail. Sickle curled in a ball, crying in pain.

"I... I'm sorry..." Sickle wimpered, eyes teary. "I'm really sorry, Claudette..."

"Too late for that now, Sickle." Claudette got up off of the smaller wind drake, walking forwards. She turned around and pecked him on the forehead. "Maybe _next time_ I'll finally put out, if you promise not to kill me."

With that, Claudette turned and flew into the sky, laughing. Sickle picked himself up off the ground, wincing at the pain in his groin. Luckily, Claudette only hit him with the flat end of her tailblade; he wasn't bleeding.

Sickle had just turned eighteen. He had a long, slender body, with wide wings. He had three small horns atop his head. A small crest ran from his neck to his tail, which ended in a small scythe. Various scratches and bruises covered his legs; some recent, others years old.

Sickle was the bastard son of a wind dragon soldier, under the command of General Aephion. He was conceived one night during the soldier's leave. Sickle lived as an army brat for several years, living off his father's gold. But two years ago, Sickle's father died while on a skirmish to the north. With little money left, and having not been written into his father's will before he died, Sickle was forced to go to the Dragon's Glade orphanage.

Sickle picke dhimself off and walked out of the alleyway. "I'm really, really sorry, Claudette..."

Claudette was Sickle's ex-girlfriend, roughly two years older than him. She was the daughter of a family of nomads, who travelled across the dragon realms. They had met two and a half years ago, and quickly became an item. On the night before Claudette's family had to leave, Sickle begged to mate with her before they left. She refused, and they broke up then and there. Heartbroken, Sickle began to spread a rumor that he had slapped her for saying no. The rumor got out of control; within a week, people were saying that Sickle MURDERED Claudette for not putting out.

Claudette's family had just recently returned to Warfang, and she soon found about the rumor. Sickle tried to meet up with her and make amends... but it didn't end well.

Sickle left the alleyway, flapping his wings. A moment later, he way flying through the air, over the rooftops towards the orphanage. As he flew through the air, he look down at the streets of the city.

~~...~~

It was in the mid-afternoon over Warfang. A loud bell sounded the end of Ashe's shift at the smelters. He put down his hammer and stepped out of smithy-booth. As he began to get going, he bumped into a large, red dragon.

"Where are YOU going?" The adult drake demanded.

"My shift is over, Mr. Boss." Ashe said.

Mr. Boss was the owner of the Warfang Smelters. Gold chains were draped around his neck. Little medallions hung on threads of gold and silver from his two large horns. A thick crest ran from his head to his tail, which ended in a spiked club. His real name was Bossomer, but he preferred the titled "Mr. Boss".

Mr. Boss looked over his ledger, scratching his chin.

"Ah, so your shift IS over." He grunted. "Off with you, then."

Ashe thanked him and took off for the orphanage. He wiped off his brow and flew through the skies, heading for home. He bore a smile: payday was coming tomorrow. As he flew towards the orphanage, a wind dragon flew over the rooftops and towards Ashe.

"Hey, Sickle." Ashe nodded.

"Hey." Ashe and Sickle flew side-by-side through the air. "How was work?"

"Tiring. Mr. Boss is always breathing down my neck. It's not like I skimp out on work!... often."

Sickle laughed, only to wince in pain. He nearly fell out of the sky. Ashe gasped and flew down to support him.

"Sheesh, what happened to you?!" Ashe asked.

"Well, I met with my ex today. I wanted to patch things up with her... but she wasn't keen on the idea."

"Ouch..." Ashe grimaced.

The two spotted the orphanage and came to a landing. As they did, they saw Bould walking up the block towards the front gate. They ran up to the earth dragon, calling out to him. "Hey, Bould!"

"Hmm?" Bould slowly turned around to see them. "Oh. Hello, friends."

"You doing alright, big guy?" Ashe asked.

"Bould is fine." He said, smiling. "Bould was learning to read at library."

"Good job, man." Sickle bumped him in the foreleg. "Are you getting better?"

"Bould can read good." He chuckled. "Bould hopes to get better soon."

"That's good, Bould." Ashe walked forwards towards the orphanage. "Come on. Let's go get dinner."

The three friends walked towards the orphanage, trying their best to accept their place in the Dragon Realms...

~~...~~

It was the middle of the night. Most citizens had gone home to their families and beds. The air was calm, the air was quiet. At the southernmost edge of the city of Warfang, a gaing of dragon ruffians were stalking a family of moles. They harassed the moles, threatening to burn them to death with magic until they got their coins and valuables. After a successful mugging, the ruffians flew off down the alleyways to escape.

The lead thug, a fire dragon, was looking over a coin purse. His minions were standing around, cackling and congratulating themselves.

"We did great, did we boss?" A lightning dragon asked.

"You bet your ass we did." The fire drake laughed. "By the end of the month, I'll be the New Prince Torch!"

"You sure about that, boss? I heard they cut off his horns to humiliate him."

"Oh, shut up! That was just a rumor!"

The thugs went back to looking through their loot. As they did so, an ice dragon looked down the alleyway briefly, before looking a second time. Far down the way, a dragon covered in a black robe was walkind down the alleyway towards them. His eyes were hidden form view.

"Boss, we've got company." The ice drake declared.

"Oh we DO, do we?" The boss chuckled. He looked towards the stranger and walked towards him. His gang followed after him, chuckling. As they got closer, the gang could see that the stranger had black scales beneath his dark cloak. The stranger walked forwards towards them, not saying a word.

It wasn't long before the boss dragon and the stranger came to a stop a few feet apart from each other. The gang of ruffians moved around the stranger, forming a circle.

"Looks like you've made a wrong turn, prick." The boss dragon grinned. "You're going to have to pay the toll to keep going."

The stranger didn't answer. He just stood there in silence. The ruffian sneered.

"Hey, did you hear me?!" He snarled. "Give us the cash! Now!"

The stranger still refused to answer. The boss of the dragons shook in rage. "Fine, if that's how you want to play it, take THIS!"

The ruffian inhaled a great puff of air and opened his mouth wide to unleash a stream a flames... but the flames didn't come. The ruffian's maw hung wide open in the air. To the drake's surprise, he found that _nothing_ moved; his legs, his tail, his wings, all were frozen in place. His eyes dashed about madly, struggling to move, or even speak. The rest of the gang looked on in confusion.

"What's happening? Why didn't he blast him?!" The ice dragon exclaimed.

"He must've done it!" A lightning dragon roared, pointing at the stranger.

The ruffians all moved to attack... only to find that they were frozen in place as well. They all looked on in fear, struggling to break free of the invisible bonds. As they struggled, the black dragon finally spoke. His voice was deep and low.

"Do you think you are powerful?" He asked. "You know nothing about power. But _I _do."

The stranger lifted the cloak from his face, revealing two yellow, demonic eyes. Three broad horns sprouted out of his head, all pointing backwards behind his head. The ruffians looked on in fear and alarm at his evil eyes. With a flash of his eyes, the ruffians around the leader all rose a forepaw in the air. They twitched and shook in protest, trying to break free. The thugs all clutched their throats at once, driving their talons deep into the flesh. The boss drake looked on in horror as his ruffiants ripped their throats out, spilling blood allover the alleyway. As their bodies hit the ground, their blood pooled together, flowing towards the black dragon. The blood travelled beneath his cloak and disappeared. The boss drake panted in fear as the black dragon stepped closer.

"I am power incarnate. I am Zevron, son of Malefor."

The thug boss rose a forepaw into the air and clutched his throat...

**Characters created by Dardarax:**

Ashe

Bould

Sickle

Bossomer/Mr. Boss

**Characters created by Deeth Irteen:**

Nazer

Zared

Jared

Claudette

Gang of Ruffians

Zevron

Greetings, friends and loved ones. It feels good to be writing a story again. I've decided that each chapter will be posted about a day or two after Dardarax posts a chapter of Dark Legacy: Umbral Visions. The plot is still a work-in-progress at the moment.

Signed, Deeth Irteen


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